Repentance
by Linker27
Summary: It was during those days, before Saria left, that he wondered if it was all his fault. He wondered if he should apologize. Later, when he realized he must, there was no one left to ask for forgiveness. "If you see him somewhere, please let him know. . ."


**Repentance**  
Linker27  
Disclaimer: Nintendo's _Legend of Zelda_ franchise gets the credit for just about everything. I'm just filling in the gaps.  
A/N: I swore to myself I would never write a trite little piece like this, so obviously contrived and illogical. I lied. So, my apologies.

* * *

She was in a foul mood again, refusing to say more than three words without frowning, and never lingering around but darting into the woods in the early morning and slinking back to her house late at night, when the only light to see by came from the stars and the faeries. After her temper endured for a fortnight – longer by far than it had ever lasted – he found himself thinking of the one who had caused all those scowls, the one who left Saria to misery.

Link had vanished into the dust, supposedly with some appointed duty, but with the Deku Tree dead in his wake, who was to say? Saria would know for sure, she always had had that affinity for the woods, and if indeed Link was responsible, she would know it. That would certainly explain her ongoing foul mood. It had been better those first weeks, when, despite Link's departure, he still seemed to be in the forest more often than not, showing up out of nowhere for a chat or a purchase. Saria smiled on the days when Link came, and a fair few times in between, as well. When she wasn't smiling, though, her mood was foul as ever, and she snapped more often than she spoke. The twins giggled at her, in her obvious misery. When Saria responded by vanishing into the Woods for three days, they stopped laughing, and came to appreciate the times when their friend was happy.

When his visits stopped, and the few Hylian passersby brought tales of dark overlords and new wars, Saria vanished from sight almost entirely. She took to spending all of the daylit hours in the woods, only returning to her home for a short while in the dead of night. Anyone who attempted to visit during those hours was met with a cold shoulder and a colder glare. Such a schedule quickly became the norm, and the brief hours out of the week when she was happy enough to show her face during the day were cherished. Everyone treaded softly near her, as a wrong word could send her into the woods, or into tears.

It was during those days that he started to really wonder about Link again. Hatred had dimmed with time, and Saria's mourning lessened his remaining disdain. As Saria barred herself away from the world, Mido found himself wondering about his part in her pain. He hadn't been kind to Link, and when he was being particularly honest with himself, he was outright cruel. He'd always been quick to assign blame, and Link was an easy scapegoat. When he thought about it, dwelling for hours on end, the same answer always met him. He was responsible, at least partially, for the Saria's sorrow. And when he no longer was afraid to admit his guilt, he found himself wondering how much time he had left before it was too late to apologize.

When the happy days slowed to once in two months instead of twice in one week, Saria snuck unnoticed into Mido's house late at night. Waking him from his sleep, she led him, wordlessly, into the woods. Weaving left and right, farther in than most dared to venture, she took him to the entryway of a maze, blocked off by an iron gate. His sense of unease grew as they walked. By the time they arrived at the gate, he knew what she would say. With a shake of his head, he hugged her tightly. Saria half-smiled and her eyes glistened brightly. She walked backwards towards the gate, never taking her eyes off her friend. For a moment she seemed about to speak, but Mido nodded, and she smiled instead. She waved, and vanished into the depths of the woods. Mido stood there until the cock crowed, half-hoping to see her return and tell him it was all a joke. She never came.

He returned to the forest slowly, dragging his feet the whole way. It took him days to admit to himself that she wouldn't return, and by the time he had, everyone else had already accepted the fact. With her gone, it seemed as though all the smiles and laughs vanished. And when the forest was overrun by scrubs and deku babas, the Kokiri hid away without a whisper of a fight. Without Saria to support them, not even the hard-headed Mido was willful enough to protest the intrusion.

Mido took to spending his days near the place where he had last seen Saria. He never went up to the iron gates themselves, though; his pride wouldn't let him do that. The notion that if he did he would end up passing through the gate was left unacknowledged. He could still protect her from a distance, and standing guard was a penance he could bear to pay.

His watch was largely left undisturbed. There was only one passerby who affected him – the only one who Mido let get closer to Saria then him – the one who knew her song. With one hand raised, blocking the way forward, he was reminded of the last time he barred someone's way – Link's, before the Guardian was killed – after that, there was no point in standing guard any longer. A shield and a sword wouldn't have made him give in again, though. He had sworn to protect her, and Saria wouldn't have called for a Hylian's assistance; Link had the excuse of the Deku Tree's summons to get him past.

But when he played that tune, the song that Saria had told him so long ago, he realized. She'd given the music to him as proof of their friendship, as she had done for all of her closest friends. Link must have heard it, too. She wouldn't have let him leave for good without that promise. This Hylian, who knew her tune by heart, he must have met Link somewhere. The Kokiri rarely talked to strangers in their woods, and only one had ever left the haven of the forest. Link wouldn't have betrayed Saria's trust by sharing it trivially. This man – twice as tall as Mido, and dangerous besides – Link must have seen some good in him. As Saria had seen good in Link, and in him. Maybe this man could protect Saria, even better than he could.

Standing aside, he moved to let the stranger go past. At the last moment, he wondered. If this man, this Hylian had met Link before, maybe he'd see him again. _"Hey, you." _He'd promised, after all, even if the words were never said. She'd want him to know, and perhaps Link deserved to hear it – to hear her apology. _"If you see him somewhere, please let him know . . ."_

Apology . . . He never did tell Saria he was sorry, did he? Penance or not, he had never said the words to anyone. A sudden thought struck him. He couldn't apologize to Saria, not any more. Despite what he wanted, he knew she wasn't coming back. But Link . . . Wasn't it Link who he had hurt most? If he couldn't ask for Saria's forgiveness, could he seek Link's? Maybe that would be enough, to ease his regret. The Hylian might never see Link, but trying must surely count, right? _"And also . . ." _Here goes. Now or never: live or die. _"I'm sorry for being mean to him."_ The stranger looked shocked, just for a second. But then the expression faded as if it had never been there, and the Hylian nodded. Good. Mido had done his part; perhaps the memories would leave him in peace. Perhaps . . . "_Tell him that, too."_


End file.
